The Bow Of Lytholas
by The-Algebraist
Summary: It's a story about the decendants of the fellow ship, and a hidden war being waged
1. Unwelcome

> Disclaimer: I do not own the world of middle earth or any of the characters it contains. I do however own the characters I created for this story.  
  
**Unwelcome.**  
  
As a red sun rose high in the sky a hooded figure silently walked the streets of Bree. He walked with a purpose about him, he knew exactly where he wanted to be. He was drawn towards the sound of people, the hustle and bustle of a typical bar. After surveying the area he saw the one sign he was looking for. The Prancing Pony.  
  
The figures dark brown boots made no sound as they passed over the soft mud. But still the sound of footsteps could be heard all about him. The figures clothes were worn you could clearly tell he was a traveller.  
  
His dark green jacket hung down to just above his knees; open at the front it revealed a black shirt thick and sturdy. Around his neck hung a single jewel, emerald green it shone when the light bounced of its majestic glass.  
  
He wore a belt around his waste the clasp had the shape of a leaf. But this was no ordinary leaf. There where only eight of these broaches in existence. Under the jacket to the back, sat two straight edged blades, also engraved with leaves and may patterns.  
  
Also in his hand was an objected covered with cloth He carried the object with care in his right hand. The steps of the inn creaked as he made his way towards the door. His eyes darted about taking in everything about the place as he approached.  
  
He could hear, and make out several people conversations but stopped, it was none of his business and he did not want to intrude. Just before reaching the door he quickly stepped to the side.  
  
The door swung open, and a tall man came stumbling out, tripping over his own feet he feel down the front stairs and lay on his back.  
  
"I warn you sir, you have worn out your welcome here. Do not return." The voice came from inside.  
  
It was the voice of a man who had authority. He did not raise his voice, because he never had to. This man was who the hooded figure was looking for. Smiling under the shadow of his hood, he stepped through the door just as the other turned and walked away.  
  
He turned and walked to the back of the common house, making no sound. No one had even seen him come in, no one was aware of his presence.  
  
The common house had a soft yellow glow to it, thanks mostly to the large fire on the right hand side. All the benches and bar tables were made of wood. They seemed old and frail, yet they took the weight of many a large man.  
  
The people in the bar were all pleasant enough, none of them seemed to notice the stranger watching them, analysing them. He kept his eyes on the man who had thrown out the drunk. He smiled and laughed with his customers, cleaning the steel ale cups as he walked about, joking with them and serving.  
  
He seemed more like a friend than a bartender. The hooded figure sat back, listening and waiting.


	2. Tomad

> **Tomad**  
  
The spot in which the stranger chose to sit was the only shadowed place in the bar, the high sun shone in through the door illuminating the rest of the bar. It also happened to be the same spot chosen by another ranger, long ago.  
  
From this corner he could see the entire room; some of the folk here were friendly people, laughing and offering to buy drinks for others. However the was two in the room that the stranger did not like the feel of, they were constantly watching, sneering at people.  
  
One man had more of a presence than the others. The man behind the bar. With brown hair down to his shoulders, a rough beard across his face. He wore a black waste coat the partially covered his white dress shirt. Over the sleeves of his shirt he wore wrist guards they had some for of jewel imbedded in them.  
  
His face was that of a handsome man, he looked proud in his life. His smile was warm and kind, never fake. His laugh was like music, it showed the truly happy nature of the man.  
  
"Brego, another ale please." A man asked walking towards the bar.  
  
"Certainly sir, would you like a pint or a half." Brego replied, picking up a pint cup as he spoke.  
  
"Since when did I ever drink halves?" The voice replied.  
  
"Since the healer told you to take it easy?" Brego said in a mocking tone.  
  
None the less he poured the man a pint and placed it on the bar. He looked at the man in front of him, he could tell he was still sickly but there was nothing he could say to change it. He stood fixing his wrist guard.  
  
Suddenly both Brego and the hooded figure were startled by a loud voice. There seemed to be an argument starting.  
  
"You can't back out now!"  
  
A voice boomed. Suddenly Brego was looking in the direction of a tall man. The stranger in the corner was alert as well.  
  
"You owe me two horses already and I had better get them" The voice continued.  
  
"Tomad, lower your voice or leave, the choice is yours" Brego was getting involved.  
  
He spoke quietly but with authority, and authority this man did not seem to care for. He turned round facing Brego picking up his cup of ale as he did.  
  
"You keep your trap shut, filth!" Tomad shouted throwing the cup at brego.  
  
Instantly the stranger in the corner reacted. Picking up his item leaving the cloth behind, and stringing an arrow to the bow. He fired it almost instantly with out aim. The arrow collided with the cup sending it off course and into a wooden roof support.  
  
The arrow stuck in to the support, keeping the cup on its shaft. Tomad sat down out of fear, stunned at what had happened. Brego turned to look at the stranger. And the stranger kept his bow trained on Tomad.  
  
"I recommend you leave her now sir. Or next time the arrow will be for you, not your cup."  
  
The bow never moved, it was aimed straight for Tomads heart. Brego did not appear to like this weapon. The roomed seemed to take on a strange green glow from the fire, as it burned into the dead wood at the bottom of the pile.  
  
Silence.


End file.
